The sun caught the dial’s hand at its apex, casting a tiny linear light. It was a stiflingly hot summer’s day, and the midday sun threatened the denizens of the flower garden with extreme sun stress. Some of the petals had already begun bleaching in the unrelenting light, and the greens of much of the foliage looked singed, bubbling with sun damage.
Oscar made his way to the guild’s private rooms. Back from a particularly arduous hunt, his leathers were stained with murky-brown blood, the liquid long since evaporated in the heat. His axe hung off his back, collecting his sweat along its length. He pressed open the door into the foyer, and the musty humidity and stale air caught in his nose. Oppressive and unyielding, he trudged onwards to his room.
At the end of the hallway, fumbling with his keys, stood a man who Oscar couldn’t quite identify. Dressed all too covered for the weather, Oscar wondered whether he was mad or simply mentally deficient.
Finally done with the lock, the man turned towards Oscar.
“Prince Ifan?”
Today's prompt: flower garden
This week's worldbuilding prompt: time
If you'd like to participate too, the contest/prompts can be found here:
@mariannewest/day-1629-5-minute-freewrite-friday-prompt-flower-garden
